


Day 3

by Sang_argente



Series: sastiel love week 2016 2.0 [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: (sorta) - Freeform, Big Brother Dean, Castiel Has Allergies, Coming Out, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-24
Updated: 2016-10-24
Packaged: 2018-08-24 12:53:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8372971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sang_argente/pseuds/Sang_argente
Summary: High school AU


  
    Halfway through October of Sam's sophomore year and he's already been through four high schools. This school isn't anything different. At least, it wasn't until somebody went out of their way to find him in the library during lunch his second day.





	

Halfway through October of Sam's sophomore year and he's already been through four high schools. At this point, he's just sort of gliding through them. He's perfected the paperwork until it only takes five minutes, he has a shallow fact about himself ready to go, and he keeps his notes organized and ready to pull out for the twentieth repeat of the same test. It's a process and one he has down pat. It's just as ingrained in him as his five mile run or his generic diner order. This school isn't anything different.

At least, it wasn't until somebody went out of their way to find him in the library during lunch his second day.

“Hello, Sam.”

Sam looks up from his worn out algebra notes and is immediately caught in too blue eyes. It takes a minute, but he finally focuses on the person in front of him. The boy's pale with messy dark hair and dark circles under his striking eyes. He also seems to be taller than Sam, not that surprises him. Most people are.

“Hi,” Sam whispers, too shy for much else to come out. As much as he pretends to be aloof and a loner, that only works when cute boys don't walk right up to him. He can feel the butterflies in his stomach and the bubbles in his veins. This is why he hates talking to strangers.

“I’m Castiel,” the boy says, sliding into the chair across the table. His knees knock against Sam's and he smiles apologetically.

Sam blushes and looks back down at his notes. “Nice to meet you.”

“You as well. Do you mind if I sit here with you?”

Shaking his head, Sam tries to stay focused on the papers in front of him, but he can't resist for long. His eyes dart from the faded numbers to the boy in front of him all throughout lunch. He watches as Castiel carefully eats a sandwich, holding it as if the peanut butter and jelly inside is as precious as gold.

He's fascinated, he realizes after he's sat there staring at Castiel. The sandwich gets smaller and smaller, but it's like Castiel isn't even eating. Not a single crumb falls on him or the table.

“Most people would say it's rude to stare,” Castiel says mildly as he slides the plastic bag into his lunchbox.

Sam jerks out of his trance, his cheeks heating rapidly. “S-sorry.”

Castiel opens his mouth but before he can say anything the bell rings. He's left sitting there, mouth half-open, watching as Sam darts out of the library.  
~~  
Sam spends the rest of the week shaking from his fingers to his toes. Castiel still sits with him during lunch, eating his sandwiches in that same strange way, but they haven’t talked again. His heart races as he thinks about how he screwed up the first conversation with someone other than his brother in nearly six months. 

Speaking of his brother, Dean's waiting outside for him at the end of the day like every other day this week, but somehow today is worse. He's leaning against the Impala, three or four girls giggling around him, but he takes one look at Sam and suddenly it's just them.

“C’mon, little brother,” Dean says, grabbing Sam's bag and opening the door for him. He waits for Sam to get settled before he hands him the threadbare backpack and closes the door gentler than a mother kissing her baby.

He orbits around Sam for the rest of the evening, silent and worried. Sam can tell by the way he leaves their small kitchen radio on alt rock and keeps the television muted. He even leaves the greying curtains open like Sam likes to have it while he does his homework. There's also the way he keeps touching Sam, little pats on the shoulder and ruffles of his hair, quick and easy but so loving.

When they sit down to dinner, macaroni and cheese with ketchup, Sam takes a deep breath and watches as Dean tenses.

“Dean,” he says slowly, drawing it out. It's a sad day when Sam can't even manage to come up with words for his brother.

“Yeah, Sammy?” Dean says with that no worries tone of voice that's obviously fake. He's stabbing at his macaroni and trying to pretend he's not scared out of his mind, but Sam can tell. He knows his big brother.

“There's this boy at school…”

Red flies up Dean's cheeks and his fingers tighten around his fork. “What did he do? Did he hurt you? Are you hurt, Sammy?”

“What?” Sam says blankly, blinking in confusion for a moment before it hits and his cheeks glow the same red but for a very different reason. “No! I'm fine!”

“You sure?” Dean checks, relaxing when Sam nods quickly. “Then what's the big deal?”

Sam stares down at his plate, hair falling into his eyes, and shrugs.

“Sam.”

“He's really...cute,” Sam says quietly, thin shoulders tense in anticipation. He's really not sure what he's expecting, but it definitely isn't what he gets.

“I repeat,” Dean says, this time with his real no worries voice. “What's the big deal?”

Sam stares at his big brother. He's not sure if he's amazed or surprised or upset or amused. He can't really do anything but stare.

That is, until Dean looks up and catches something in his face that causes that familiar big brother concern to flare up.

“Hey, kiddo, it's okay. I mean, I know some people say it's not but, c’mon, it's the friggin’ nineties! Who cares if you like dicks instead of chicks?”

“It's not that!” Sam protests loudly, dropping his fork with a clatter as he throws his hands up, as if to ward off the devil. Or, in this case, Dean's vulgarity. He can't even talk to Castiel, let alone think about anything like that.

“Then what is it? Christ, Sammy, spit it out.”

“I don't know how to talk to people!”

Dean's jaw drops before he chuckles. “You're talking to me just fine.”

“You know what I mean,” Sam sighs. “Normal people.”

“Sam,” Dean says slowly, as if his little brother is a particularly dumb dog. “All people talk the same. You'll be alright.”

And he goes back to his macaroni, not concerned in the least that his little brother is gay or a spaz. That's just Sammy.

Sam, on the other hand, sits there staring at his brother like he just delivered the word of God to him personally. This isn't the first time Dean's just thrown some wisdom like that out there, probably won't be the last, and he's usually right.  
~~  
Sam keeps that in mind when he's sitting in the library Monday. He may be trying out conversation with people outside his family, but the cafeteria is still way out of his pay grade.

“You're not studying today,” Castiel observes as he sits in his chair. 

Sam shakes his head, fingers white-knuckling it around the brown paper sack Dean thrust into his hands that morning. “I brought you something.”

Castiel looks up from his own lunch, same sandwich as always, with something like wonder in his eyes. “Oh?”

Trembling fingers slide a similar sandwich out of the sack and over to Castiel.

“I thought you might be bored with peanut butter and jelly,” Sam says quietly, trying to ignore the heat in his face.

“What is it?” Castiel asks as he takes the sandwich gingerly.

“Peanut butter and banana.”

They sit together, eating quietly. Sam tries to keep the disgust off his face because it turns out Castiel's been eating peanut butter with strawberry jelly and that's just wrong, but his new friend offered it to him in return so he eats it anyway. It's not until Castiel makes a small noise that Sam looks up to see how he likes the bananas.

“Oh no,” Sam says at the sight of the little red bumps around Castiel's mouth.

And maybe it turns out that Castiel is allergic to bananas, and maybe Sam spends the whole ambulance ride apologizing until Castiel grabs his hand tenderly, and maybe Dean laughs for thirty minutes when he finds Sam at the hospital because he poisoned his little boyfriend.

He still spends the afternoon whispering to Castiel, hunter's lore and traveller's pamphlets and hospital policies he's seen a thousand times. His throat goes dry and scratchy after an hour but he keeps talking, wanting to keep that spark of happiness on Castiel's face. He wants it there forever, getting brighter and brighter, and that's how he knows he's in love.

Well, that, and how hard he laughs on Tuesday when Castiel politely moves away when he takes out his lunch.

**Author's Note:**

> for johnnwinchester on tumblr for sastiel love week.


End file.
